Little Johnny's mother was in the hospital, and he was visiting to see his new brother. He wandered into an adjoining room which was occupied by a woman with a broken leg.
"Hello," he said. "How long you been here?"
"Oh, about two weeks."
"May I see your baby," he then ask.
"Why I haven't got a baby," the woman replied.
"Gee, you are slow. My mama's been here just two days and she's got one."
One weekend my friend Sally, a nurse, was looking after her nine-year-old nephew when he fell off a playground structure and hit his head.
Worried that he might have a concussion, she checked him all night. Every hour, she'd gently shake him and ask, "What's your name?"
Soon, he began moaning in protest each time she entered the room.
When Sally went in at 5:00 A.M. she found something white on his forehead. Leaning close, she saw a crayon-scrawled message taped to his forehead.
It read: "My name is Daniel."